


The Words of Flowers

by miracujess



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Don't worry, F/M, FLOWERS!!!, PERSIST, Why do I do this, all aboard the sin train, and obviously i hate myself, but - Freeform, choooo chooOOOO, flower!au, fluff fluff //fluff/, hanakotoba, hell will claim me soon, i cant even write homework what am i doing, i cant see this lasting, i hate this fucking show, i must be purged, im scared of smut, only this show, only this show man, what even, yeah flOWERS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5823673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miracujess/pseuds/miracujess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette has always loved flowers, and during one slow day at work she left a doodled-upon napkin on the counter of the bakery till...</p><p>Much to the interest of particular patron.</p><p>Follow this story as too oblivious, love-struck dumbasses try to communicate through flowers. That's right, <em>flowers</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting (of a Sort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien feels all the feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up you miraculous loving sinners? This is my first contribution to this hell-fandom, so I hope you enjoy the cheap feels. 
> 
> It's based on FLORIOLOGY guys. How cute i just asdvjsf;sadbfk
> 
> This is going to be half drabble, half trash. Also, I'm going to try hella hard to make some flangst (I will make it a thing) and also Adrien will suffer
> 
> Note: no superhero alter egos in this universe. Just a couple of regular dorks. Also no spoilers but maybe reverse ships huehuehue
> 
> Also, hmu if you want a beta reader or if you want to beta read bc lol I did not get this checked.

Adrien stared transfixed as the weakening sunlight cradled her dark, bowed head, picking out lighter strands amongst the sea of ink and setting them aflame with blue fire. She rested on her forearms while her right hand gripped a pencil that moved furiously over an open page in a small book. He had seen this scene play out five times in the past two weeks, always as the sun began its retreat into the Parisian skyline.

Well, not _always_.

##       2 weeks and 5 visits ago

He first saw her on a rainy day.

The weather girl hadn’t predicted any stormy weather, so most were unprepared as the storm clouds started to loom over Paris. Adrien had been walking leisurely down a street, consumed by his own thoughts but happy to not have anymore commitments for the morning. He hadn’t notice the unusual darkening of the sky until the heavens had opened upon his shoulders. He had yelped and pulled up his hoodie, but it was not enough. Desperate to not get wet, or god forbid, sick, he ran into the nearest establishment, which turned out to be a bakery perched on a busy corner, named Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie.

The atmosphere inside the bakery was a complete opposite to the outside: it was warm, cozy, and vibrant. Adrien slipped off his hood and looked around. He didn’t seem to be the only one to have the idea to take refuge here, as there were 6 other people shaking the rain from their hair and getting comfortable, sitting down and browsing the selection of baked goods. Adrien quickly claimed a little table by the display window and texted Natalie where he was. She wanted to have the Gorilla pick him up, but Adrien insisted that his father’s appointments were more important and that as soon as the rain stopped he would go straight home, and _yes_ of course he won’t get caught. Adrien signed exasperatedly and slid his phone into his pocket. Now bored, he rested his head in his hands to gaze at the storm outside.

 _I wonder how long this storm is going to last_ , Adrien thought mildly.

“Seems like the Mother Nature is unhappy,” a friendly voice said above him. Adrien looked up (and up and _up_ ) to meet eyes with a big, bear-looking man, who smiled at him. “Welcome to Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie. I am Tom. What can I get you on this dreary day?” Adrien liked him instantly.

“Um…” Adrien scanned the plastic-covered menu, unsure due to his breakfast a few hours prior. However, Adrien didn’t want to offend Tom by just ordering a glass of water. He looked back at Tom. “What would you recommend, monsieur?”

Tom’s grin turned conspiratorial. “Well, there is a new batch of croissants in the back, literally fresh out the oven. They are simply divine with some cheese.” Adrien liked the sound of that: something delicious but not too filling.

“That… actually sounds amazing, may I have that and a glass of water, please?”

“Of course, but… I feel like a hot chocolate may be more up your alley.” Tom said, taking the menu away from him.

 _Ooohhh, hot chocolate_ , Adrien thought dreamily. It did not seem like a bad idea, especially on this depressing day. _Just as long as Natalie never finds out, otherwise she’d have a hernia_.

“I see the look on your face and I know I’ve said all the right words. One hot chocolate and croissant with cheese coming right up.” Tom turned to leave, but stopped 90º degrees in. “Oh! I almost forgot – what type of cheese will you have: brie or camembert?”

Adrien inwardly cringed at the mention of camembert, a cheese with a smell so pungent he could scarcely stomach it.

“Ah, brie, s’il vous plaît.”

If it were possible, Tom’s smile grew even friendlier. “My kind of man! I could never stand camembert, but it’s a surprisingly popular choice of cheese here.”

And if it were possible, Adrien liked Tom even more (even if his size was downright terrifying). Adrien kept smiling at Tom as he walked towards the till, but stopped when the big man halted suddenly.

“Where did she…?” Adrien heard Tom mutter under his breath. “Where is that girl?”

“Here, Papa!” squeaked a sweet but disembodied voice from behind the counter. Tom marched forward and leaned over the counter to peer at who Adrien assumed to be the girl hidden beneath it.

“What are you doing? Well, come on out, there’s work to be done! Why are you slacking? Come now, up, up! I need you to make a special hot chocolate for Table 4; he’s soaked to the bone.”

“Pap- _a_! I was talking to Alya! Hardly slacking!” Adrien could hear the pout in her voice. “But yes, _fine_. Chop, chop, get to work,” she said sardonically. Adrien could hear the rustling of fabric as she jumped out from her place under the counter. Adrien only caught a brief flash of dark hair and the colour pink before the girl turned around and near-ran into the swinging kitchen doors.

“Ah, kids these days.” Tom called across the room to Adrien with a chuckle and a "what are you going to do?" shrug. At the noise, many of the other customers turned to see who he was talking to. Adrien leaned lower in his seat and ducked his head, trying to look inconspicuous.

Adrien, wanting to get his mind off of the consequences that he would face should he be recognized (though unlikely - he was the youngest customer by 20 years), looked up at the sound of the kitchen doors opening. He was actually eager for his food, but all thought of it faded away, because emerging from the kitchen was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. The brief sight of her that he had caught earlier could not do her image justice. She was fair, almost impossibly so, with the darkest hair he had ever seen, so black it was a midnight blue, but her eyes – oh, her eyes! While her hair was the night sky, her eyes must hide the sun behind them, for they were as blue as the sky should’ve been outside and as blue as the promise of summer. Eyes so magical, so wonderful, and…

They looking were not in his general direction. Like, at all.

Now, Adrien has never been one to be vain, but there was a reason his face was plastered all over Paris. Because he was, well, handsome. Heartbreakingly so, his mother had told him once (before she disappeared, but that’s a different story). And obviously, she wasn’t lying, as Adrien sometimes had to beat-off girls (and once, a boy) with sticks and a Gorilla. So, it was natural to think that perhaps the girl, Marinette - _god, what a beautiful name_ \- might be flustered by his physical charms, or at least notice them, or at least know who he was, but, no, her mind seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

In fact, it was a bit worrying that she wasn’t looking at him, for she was carrying a round silver tray with a mug and his croissant on top, and her gaze seemed fixated on the floor under her feet. Adrien had the sudden, _horrifying_ realisation that if she were to stumble now, it would be a very loud and very public event. And he also had the sneaking suspicion that something like that wouldn’t be unlikely. Luckily, Tom took the tray from her, walked over and placed the plate and mug in front of Adrien. Unluckily, the girl turned around as soon as her burden was lifted and rushed to her previous position behind the counter before Adrien initiate eye contact her.

However, the most _buttery_ croissant Adrien had ever seen soon claimed his attention. He stared at the warm pastry, mouth watering and feeling suddenly ravenous.

“Eat up, son. Today is on the house,” Tom said generously. Adrien’s head turned sharply towards him, all thought of satiating his newfound appetite gone.

“What? Monsieur, I cannot accept this! This is too much!”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You can just pay next time!” Tom gave out a booming chuckle.

Adrien paused. “Next… time..?” he tried the words out.

Tom nodded encouragingly, grin still fixed under his impressive moustache. The wheels in Adrien’s head started to turn.

_If I become a regular, then I can see Marinette more often. Maybe, even get to know her!_

Adrien broke out into his most dazzling grin. “Why, monsieur, you’ve got yourself a deal!” he said, shaking Tom’s massive hand

Tom chuckled again and clapped Adrien on the back with his other hand. “’Atta boy!”

“Please, call me Adrien.” _And your future son-in-law._

* * *

Adrien tore into his brie croissant with gusto, but sipped at his hot chocolate while he waited for the rain to let up. He had checked his phone a couple of times, but no messages beyond the usual changes-in-scheduling notifications from Natalie. His hot chocolate was down to its last dregs when he heard chairs scraping against the black-and-white floor. He looked around and saw many of his fellow prisoners of the rain getting up and heading to the counter, presumably to pay for the drinks and food consumed during their time inside.

 

  
_Is the rain over?_ he thought distantly. He looked outside and could see the sunlight that was peaking through the clouds fragment through the raindrops lingering on windows and canopies. Adrien didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he was happy to finally get on with the rest of his responsibilities. On the other, this meant that he no longer had an excuse to stay in the bakery. Adrien ultimately sighed and pushed his chair back, knowing that Natalie would have his behind if he wasn’t home in time for lunch. He got up and, remembering that the meal was for free, was about to just walk out when he saw who was manning the till.

 _Marinette_ , his mind whispered.

Adrien hoped no one could see the hearts in his eyes.

Not willing to loose the opportunity to make her acquaintance and resolute in his goal to get her number, Adrien joined end of the lining up to pay. It moved forward sluggishly, as each customer wanted to chat with girl about the bakery and how grateful they were for her family’s hospitality. And it didn’t help that Marinette was more than willing to make conversation, eyes sparkling as she handled the money and package baked goods. Adrien’s only consolation was that at least he would be able to make nice ( _real nice_ ) when his turn in line came. Just as Adrien was warming up the Charm Machine™, Marinette looked down the line and locked eyes with him.

Adrien froze. He was so startled by how crystal her eyes were that he failed to flash a smile and simply ended up staring at her. Adrien lost all sense of his surroundings and time. All the noise faded out, and the only thing that seemed real to him was her.

God, she was ridiculously beautiful. The sunset streaming into the window was turning her skin into a blushing pink, her hair shimmered, her dainty hands frozen on a paper bag, and her pearly lips were parted in a manner that was equally endearing as it was sexy.

Oh, _Jesus_.

Adrien suddenly felt a bit too hot and broke eye contact. He glanced down briefly and thought furiously about his father to make sure he wasn’t a total creep. Satisfied with his stellar control over this hormones, he looked back at her, but the moment was lost: she was… gone? Standing in her place was a smiling, petit Asian women with the same hair as Marinette, mostly likely her mother, and probably Sabine.

 _Merde_!

“Merde!” he said under his breath, just for emphasis. There had been just one person left in front of him!

Adrien frantically swiveled his gaze around the store, but alas, she was nowhere to be found. Upset by his failure, Adrien pouted until the person in front of him left after paying for her pain au chocolat, and he was left standing face-to-face with Marinette’s mother.

“Ah, Adrien is it? What are you doing, silly! Free meal, remember? You’re free to go” Sabine tittered daintily and made a “shoo” motion with her hands.

“Y-yes of course,” he laughed awkwardly. “I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality, and to ask, is it really if okay that I don’t pay?”

Sabine’s face softened. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…” she hesitated. “My daughter said you looked like you were a bit sad and needed some cheering up, and Tom thought that maybe a free meal would brighten your day.” Sabine smiled softly, crinkling her eyes into little crescent moons.

Adrien’s heart stopped and burst into flames. _She… she cared how I was feeling?_

Adrien could pinpoint the exact moment attraction turned into adoration.

With the brightest smile ever, Adrien promised to come back soon and left with his heart as light as the croissant he just had and thanking the clouds for raining on him when they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will be super irregular for this. I know, I know. I hate it too. But there's this thing called high school and it wants to ruin my life. Sorry fam :(


	2. A Brief Debriefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Paris, and welcome to 'Phone Calls with Alya Césaire'!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mari-chan has a little crush and a lot of issues.

As soon as Adrien's cute butt had walked out the door, Marinette sprinted upstairs to her room and dialled Alya.

“Alya! _Mon dieu_! You're not going to believe me: Adrien freaking _Agreste_ just walked into the bakery and ordered a croissant!” Marinette squealed into the phone before Alya could even utter a customary “ _Salut_ , Marinette!”

“Holy shit! Girl, are you serious?” was Alya’s surprised and slightly incredulous reply.

“Why would I lie about that? Ohmigodohmigodohmigod…” Marinette’s breathing had gone erratic and she thought that she might be hyperventilating.

“Girl, don’t freak out, okay? But –“ Marinette heard the phone drop onto a soft surface and Alya squeal for a good four seconds, followed by a maniacal peal of laughter, and then heard some rustling as Alya put the phone back to her ear, huffing. “Okay, I’m good. Now, the _deets_ , girl.”

Marinette tried to gather her thoughts. “Where do I even start? Okay, so you know when it started raining?” Marinette waited for the soft “mhm” of assent before she continued. “Well, Maman said that people will start coming in to escape the rain and that since the bakery would be at full capacity, I would need to work the cash register. So there I stood, doing my job, bored out of my mind because no one is paying because it’s still raining cats and dogs and no one wanted to go outside, when all of the sudden, this boy rushed in with a hoodie – I couldn’t see his face because the hood was up – and immediately went to the table by the window, you know, that one?”

“Stop asking questions that I know the answer to!” Ever the journalist, Alya was, always wanting the facts before the minor details.

“Okay, okay, sheesh. So, this boy was just there, sitting and probably texting on his phone, and I sympathised with him because the rain had trapped us both inside and we were both bored out of our minds. Then, all of the sudden, he looked up from his phone and his hood sliped off. At first, I thought ‘Wow, he’s cute,’ but then I looked closer and just started internally freaking out because it was _Adrien Agreste_! A.K.A, the son of _Gabriel Agreste_ , A.K.A. the _biggest teenage supermodel in the world_ , A.K.A. the –“

“– fire in your loins?” Alya interrupted innocently.

“Aly-a!” shrieked Marinette. “ _Eww_! It's not like that, and don’t you pretend you don’t think he’s gorgeous too, hypocrite!”

Alya cackled. “Yes, sorry, go on. No more interruptions, I promise!”. Even Marinette had to stifle a giggle, though it was probably at the absurdity of the whole situation.

Marinette started to pace back and forth across her room, remembering where she left off. “So, as I was _saying_ , there I was, losing my mind, when I saw Papa heading _straight. Towards. Him_. And that’s when I almost had a heart attack, because you know how mortifying my dad could be, but Adrien took it all in stride and they were chatting really nicely and honestly looked like they were getting along, then Papa came to the counter and he’s like, ‘Marinette, where are you?’ _really_ loudly, which was so embarrassing and –“

“Okay, I know I said no more interruptions, but why was he asking where you were?”

“Oh.” Marinette had forgotten one _tiny detail_. “Right, well, I was under the counter, pretending to text you.”

“You were _where_?! Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you are such a dork!”

“I panicked, okay? Wouldn’t you have done the same if you had seen, I don’t know, Nadja Chamack?”

“No, because I wouldn’t tiptoe around the situation and would instead go talk to my idol – besides, she’s not that great, way too biased… God Marinette, sometimes you’re just hopeless!”

“I know!” groaned Marinette. “I am such an idiot! And trust me - it gets worse!” She flopped down onto her chaise lounge and stared at the ceiling.  
  
Alya joined Marinette in her groaning. “How could it possibly get worse?”

“Papa called Adrien a handsome boy in front of the whole bakery.”

“DuPapa did _what_?” squawked Alya. Marinette took some shallow satisfaction at hearing how distressed Alya was feeling, even if it was a mere sliver of Marinette’s own distress.

“Well, Papa handed me the order for a brie croissant and a hot chocolate, along with the word ‘FREE’ on the bottom, which I assume made Adrien’s meal free. I had turned to hand the order to Maman in the kitchen when Papa stopped me and asked me what I was dong, but I was so frazzled and embarassed that I became snappy, which probably made me look like a total Chloé, and I just escaped into the kitchen at Mach speed.” Marinette, remembering the scope of her impulsiveness, slapped a hand onto her forehead and dragged it down slowly. Alya cooed comfortingly into the speaker.  
  
“Thanks. Even though the conversation outside was terrible, inside it was worse because Maman passed me to go work at the register, there was this smug, _knowing_ grin on her face and I died a little on the inside.”

“Hah! God, I love Sabine.” Marinette heard Alya murmur.

“I prepared the hot chocolate and croissant with no fuss, but when I went back outside to give the order to Maman to deliver, she folded her arms and shook her head, the devil, making me the one who had to walk across the floor and give Adrien his order. I was horrified, because knowing me, I am especially susceptible to clumsiness and I definitely did not want to spill anything today.”  
  
“Oh yeah, I agree with you one hundred percent. You're like a hurricane waiting to happen. What did you do, then?”

“I kinda stared at the floor? Like, really aggressively?”

“Oh, Mari _nette_.”

“Yeah, yeah, save it; I wasn’t taking any chances. Luckily, Papa seemed to share my exact sentiments and met me halfway to take the tray from me. I rushed back to the cash register, and as Maman was slipping back into the kitchen, she says, ‘Isn’t that boy just the most handsome thing?’ and I briefly contemplated matricide as I try to ignore the heck out of her. But, in the reflection of the cash register, I see that my hair is really messy and in pigtails, and I remember that I was wearing wearing pink capris with _holes_ in them and a too-big apron splattered with flour and who-knows-what. I was basically a walking _disaster_.” Marinette finished her rambling with a whine, dragging out “disaster” until it sounded more like “disaste _rrrrrr_ ”.

“How does this even happen to you?” blurted Alya. Marinette could tell that Alya was somewhere between feeling somewhat sympathetic and wanting to liveblog the whole ordeal to her 30,000 followers.

"I don't know, and neither will you if you don't let me _finish_!" Marinette didn't even bother waiting for her best friend's reply before plowing on. " _Any_ way, the heavens were kind enough to have my dad take the tray from me before I got into smelling range. I went back to the register, do my best to not stare and all is fine and dandy because I know that Adrien will just walk out when he's done, ‘cause the meal was free, and there was no need for him to line up at the cash register... _EXCEPT HE DOES_."

Alya gasps in mock-horror and then tries to suffocate her chortles. Marinette felt a small twinge of betrayal, yet understood where Alya was coming from. This would definitely be something to laugh about in the future, but more like 100 years from now, not several-minutes-into-the-future.

"I pretended to not see him try to delay the inevitable by chatting with every customer in line, but then I accidentally looked up and the worst possible thing happened."

"How could it _possibly_ get worse?" Alya’s voice had a slight note of mockery in it. Marinette pouted, not understanding why her point wasn’t getting across.  
  
"WE MADE EYE CONTACT, ALYA." Marinette exploded. Even though the event had happened 12 minutes ago, Marinette still felt as if her heart hadn’t restarted. She remembered the laser-like focus of his eyes and shuddered.

A silence on the other end, then, “You know, that's actually not that bad. Actually, I think that’s pretty cute and, you know, destiny and shit.”

Marinette paused, considering this. _Well, I’ll be damned,_ thought Marinette. _She’s kind of right?_ She bit her lip, deep in contemplation. _Nahhhhhh...?_

"Mari? Hello? You still alive?" Alya inquired after Marinette had been silent for a while.

 _I don't know, it feels like I’m in hel_ l, Marinette was tempted to reply, but softly said instead, "Yeah, I'm here."

"So? What was he like? How was he oh-so-awful eye contact?"

“It was…” she began tentatively, then halted. She thought about him, and how it was different than seeing him on billboards and TV and magazines – the only spotlight on him was the resurfaced sun shining through the rain-dappled windows, which it made him softer. Vulnerable. And how his face wasn’t so aggressively countered, his only makeup being the shadows under his eyes and the glow of his cheeks. How he had sat at the table, gazing into a world that extended beyond the brick confines of her parents’ bakery.

“It… was intense." She finished lamely. She cringed at the mediocrity of her words.

“In… tens _e_.” Alya parroted back at her, unimpressed and saying the world slowly as if to make sure she was hearing it correctly.

Marinette flushed. “I know how it sounds!” But else could she have said? That his eyes were so green, and with that black hoodie on, emeralds would look tarnished next to them? Or that his hair was the colour of lazy sunlight, of the sun just before it tries to creep away and set itself on fire? Or that when she looked at him, the only thing she could think of was sunlight streaming though leaves, a sensation that could only be fully encompassed in a word comprised of letters that weren’t their own? If she said any of that, Alya would’ve called her a weeaboo who was too romantic for her own good. She probably was.

“It sounds like someone has a crush~!” Alya sang teasingly.

“Oh, _no no no_! It’s not like that at all! Oh my gosh, Alya! Calm down! It’s just that… he was really vibrant, like summer. All gold and green. And so beautiful. But then _I_ stared for such a long time – oh, you don’t know how _red_ I got – while he was just gaping at me in what was probably horror, because, I don’t know, I looked like a total mess.”

Alya scoffed.

“I swear, I’m a pink nightmare! Anyway, after a while, he, for some reason, looks down really fast and thankfully breaks eye contact just as Maman exits the kitchen, and – I saw the opportunity and took it! I grabbed the edge of her cheongsam and dragged her to the counter, which I ducked behind again.”

“You _didn’t!_ ”

“I did! I don’t think he saw me, though. Maman, thankfully, got the message and greets him, and says somethings along the lines of: ‘Your meal is free, please leave.’ and then he awkwardly said he forgot – it was adorable – and then Maman _betrayed_ me when she said, and I quote, ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but my daughter said you looked like you were a bit sad and needed some cheering up, and Tom thought that maybe a free meal would brighten your day,’ – which I definitely did not think _or_ say – and then he left. _Fini_.”

A pause as Alya processed this. “Thats it?” she chuckled. “Man, got to love your mom’s hardcore shipping side, Mari.”

"That's all you got out of this?" Marinette didn’t find it so funny. “Alya! It–it’s nuh–nuh–nothing to _la–ugh_ ab–b–bout!” she blubbered, eyes suddenly filling with tears.

“Oh, Mari, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realise this affected you so much!” Alya immediately stopped laughing and was apologetic. Marinette sniffled.

“It’s just, oh, I’ve idolised his family since I was 10 years old, and the one chance that I get to meet him, my perfect guy, I make a complete fool of myself. He couldn't even bear to _look_ at me for long! How could anyone ever love a complete failure like me?”

“Marinette!” Alya chided. “You’re getting ahead of yourself! It was just a weird twist of fate, and anyone would’ve acted similarly. No one’s not going to love you, how could they? You’re an angel, you’re kind, and you’re mega-talented. You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Yeah, okay... I guess,” Marinette sighed. “Um, I’ve got to go and help close up the bakery. Bye, Alya, and thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mari. Love you! And see you on Monday.” Alya said before Marinette hung up. She gazed at the bright screen for a minute before placing her phone beside her and sitting up. She sighed again as she ran a hand through her hair, disrupting the secured strands, and started her descent to the bakery.

“She’s right. I’m never going to see him again,” she said aloud for no one to hear, maybe in an attempt to reassure herself. “It’s nothing to cry over.”

She, as we know, was wrong.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this kill me it's been a month and a half and this was written 4 WEEKS AGO.
> 
> send me anon hate on tumblr: miracujess.tumblr.com


	3. Macarons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will the awkwardness ever end?
> 
> N E V E R.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am alive and neglectful. IM SO SORRY. Truth be told, this has been finished for, ehee, 2 months. DON'T KILL ME.

The next day, he had a fitting. For the _entire_ Autumn/Winter men’s collection. That took 11 hours and he was totally exhausted afterwards.

The day after that, he had his bi-annual Mandarin, piano, and fencing exams.

But the day after _that_ , after a mere 4 hours of tutoring — his History tutor had an emergency and cancelled, and Natalie, sensing his restlessness, relented and allowed him two hours of a free schedule — Adrien Agreste finally had free time.

"Hey!" he said as he popped his head into the servants' quarters, startling the Gorilla, who was having a cup of coffee. He smiled sheepishly as his bodyguard glared at him while mopping up the coffee on the counter. ”So, uh… you want to get some food?"

 

* * *

 

Three days later, Marinette had all but put the incident into the back of her mind and was sitting behind the counter when the bell above the door rang. She jerked her head up, tearing her attention away from her phone, and fixed a practiced smile onto her mouth.

"Bonjour, and welcome to Tom & Sabine's Boulangerie & Patisser— _ee_!" she squeaked when she saw just who walked in. She tried to duck under the counter — old habits die hard — but no, he _definitely_ saw her; there would be no getting out of this one. She, halfway to safety, instead made an awkward kind of squatting movement, flushed furiously, and straightened, gaze on steadfastly on the marble countertop.

 _Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no OHNOOHNOOHNO!_ she screamed in her mind as she prayed for any divine being to smite her where she stood.

 _(Oh yes oh yes oh yes oh yes oh yes OHYESOHYES!_ thought Adrien as he sauntered up to the counter with glee, the Gorilla looking — as always — intimidating and uncomfortable as he trailed behind his employer.)

Marinette slowly raised her gaze. “Oh, _erm_ , eh, _uhh_ -Hi! How can I lehp — I mean, pelh, ugh, _help_ you today?” Marinette smiled with stiff cheeks.

 _Kill me oh my god let me die why why why?_ she cried with her eyes. _Why did it have to be today! Maman and Papa are doing errands…._

 

Adrien noticed nothing but the fact that her hair was in a side ponytail today, which framed her face very nicely, and—

_Are those… freckles?_

His breathing stopped for half a second before he regained his composure. “Oh, I would…” _Merde_. He didn’t know what to order. Heck, this was the second time he’d ever _been_ to a bakery! It was not as if his father allowed him to consume buttery, sugary goods often (or at all).

_Think you idiot. Think!_

“… like whatever _you_ would recommend.” _Nice one, Agreste!_

Marinette gulped. “Oh, well, I would suggest… I would suggest… the macarons!” She gestured empathically. “Y-Yes, they’re one of our best!” She darted out from the counter to the display case, turning her back on her impossibly handsome customer and his terrifyingly huge bodyguard. She took a second to steel herself. Adrien took a second to examine her from behind and she what she was wearing — a habit instilled into him by his father.

He hair was slung into a over-the-shoulder ponytail, curling delightfully at the ends and fastened by a ribbon that was decorated with a purple flower. Under her apron, she wore simple, high-waisted, dark jeans, a classic white button-up pushed up at the elbows, and sensible navy flats.

_She looks like a goddess._

 

Marinette took that second to give herself a little pep talk, _Okay, Cheng, you. Have._ Got. _This. He’s just a customer, okay? You look look like an actual human being today, and your hair is fresh. Game plan is a go. So: turn around in three. Two. One._

 She turned around, a winning smile on her lips. “Well, vanilla, chocolate, and caramel are our safer flavours, but if you want to be pleasantly surprised, try our speciality flavours: rose, blueberry yogurt, or cinnamon flavours.”

_Marinette, you’re trying to sell macarons, NOT A HOUSE!_

She wanted to bang her head against the display case.

Adrien’s eyes locked with her for a moment before scanning the case. “They all look so good,” he said, biting his lip. ( _Good lord, even his voice is handsome_ , Marinette thought dumbly. _LIP. BITE. LIP. BITE._ )

“What do you think, Gorilla?” he asked the leviathan behind him. The Gorilla just grunted. “Yes, yes, I agree. We _do_ need some excitement in our lives.” He smiled at her, eyes dancing. “Can I have two of each of your specialty flavours?”

Marinette felt her cheeks lose colour. _Holy heck that is a lot of macarons… does he know how much they cost?_

“S-sure! Um…” She awkwardly nodded towards the counter. “Let me just ge-get the box!” She scampered towards the counter, retrieved a box from underneath, and returned with a warbling smile as she collected the six macarons. She laid them out in the box and took them to the counter, followed by her two customers, where she rang them up.

“Okay…” She read the screen of the register and bit her lip. “Six macarons for £24. Will that be all?” She briefly scanned his face, looking for any discomfort at the price, but no, he seemed relaxed.

Until…

 

“Yes, thank you.” Adrien slid a hand into his back pocket and froze.

_Idiot. You’re a goddamned idiot, Agreste._

His smile stayed directed at Marinette, though it began to have panic flickering at the edges. She titled her head slightly, befuddled.

_My wallet. Mon dieu, I forgot my wallet. How will I ever show my face in here again? This is so embarrassing. More embarrassing than that time when my leather pants ripped on set. Yep. This is worse._

Adrien prayed for the ground to open up beneath him.

_Would it be too obvious if I walked out the door and into traffic?_

 

Marinette, however, was having her own little freak out. _Why isn't he doing anything? Was it something I said? Is there something my teeth? What's wrong?_

 

Adrien was just about to scream and throw his phone behind her — if only to distract her while he fled— when the Gorilla casually stepped forward, brandishing crisp Euro bills. He placed them on the counter, then retook his position behind his ward. Adrien wanted throw his arms around the big guy, but he wasn’t sure his arms were long enough to wrap around the behemoth’s neck.

Marinette, who was oblivious to Adrien’s infinite gratitude to his bodyguard/chauffeur/wingman, counted the money, and, satisfied, wordlessly calculated the change and slid that over the counter, followed with the box.

“Thank you for shopping at Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie & Patisserie, we hope you come…” She broke off, looked down, and swallowed. “… Again,” she finished hoarsely.

Marinette’s fingers, which still rested on the box, were underneath Adrien’s large and warm hand.

 _It’s not even sweaty like honestly does this boy get_ everything _?_

She stared at it for a fraction of a second longer before bringing her eyes back up, only for them to meet the verdant orbs of his. Her eyes widened, but she did not look away. Then, slowly but surely, like the sun peaking out from behind the clouds (like the day they met), he smiled and stole her breath, because in that smile was unspoken affection and softness, which baffled her.

 _He must be really excited to eat those macarons_.

She broke contact, physical and visual, first, snatching her hand away and taking a tiny, hesitant step back, and attempted to make herself smaller. Or disappear. Whichever was easier.

Smile unfaltering, Adrien leaned slightly over the counter, eliminating the space she had tried to create.

“Oh, I know I will,” he said, voice deeper than before. He collected his change and his macarons from the counter, and handed them to the man behind him. And then, with a bizarre twitch of his eye, he was gone, bodyguard on his heels.

 _What was_ that _? Is his face okay?_

Marinette shook herself out of her trance. “Enjoy!” she called out belatedly, but a glass window already separated them. She played the scene over in her mind, fixating on the little details.

 _Yep,_ she thought. _He loves them macarons._

She was about to whip out her phone and wail to Alya when the next customer stumbled in. This one was a regular: a kindly, eccentric man whose mid-life crisis involved a divorce and pigeons. Lots and lots of pigeons.

“Ah, Marinette. What a lovely day!” he literally cooed.

 _I’ll call her later,_ she promised herself forlornly.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile. Adrien was dancing around his bodyguard as they walked back to the house.

“Did you see her? Man, she’s so pretty! Her hair is so shiny. I wonder if the macarons were made by her?” The scene was reminiscent to an excitable chihuahua yapping around, well, a gorilla. Then his attitude took a sudden plunge.

“I am such an _idiot_! I tried to wink but I got so nervous it I botched it! Oh god, she must’ve thought I was having a seizure,” he bemoaned as he sunk down onto the pavement. “And my wallet! How could I forgot my wallet! That was so embarrassing.” He cradled his head in his hands.

The Gorilla opened the box and said nothing as he handed his employer a macaron. Adrien accepted it, and without guessing the flavour, bit it.

“I mean,” he started with his mouth full, but stopped as the flavour exploded on his tongue. “Mmm,” he sighed, closing his eyes in pleasure. “This is so good.” He swirled the treat in his mouth. “This much be the rose. Wow, this is interesting. Try one!” he exclaimed, jumping up.

The Gorilla cautiously took a blue macaron out of the box, which look ridiculously small in his gigantic hands, and sniffed the sweet treat. Passing whatever test, he popped to entire thing into his mouth. Adrien watched with apt attention.

“Well?” he inquired, eager for a reaction.

The Gorilla swallowed, and after a long pause, the corners of his mouth went up a bit.

 _Wait a minute, is that a… smile?_ Adrien gaped at him, dumbstruck.

“Truly miraculous,” the Gorilla said with a voice like thunder that was rarely used. “I think… I would like to go back for more, one day.”

Adrien couldn’t stop smiling as they finished the box before even arriving at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, i'm 100% projecting onto Marinette.
> 
> Send me hate mail: miracujess.tumblr.com


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